


i think i'll stay here 'til i feel whole again

by illuminatedcities



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, Praise Kink, Suit Porn, Threesome - F/M/M, Vibrators, d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illuminatedcities/pseuds/illuminatedcities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can we maybe admire the design choices some other time?” John asks. He has his hands flat on the bed beside him, but with the way he's squirming, Grace can tell that he'd love to put them somewhere else. “I'd <i>really</i> love to start.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	i think i'll stay here 'til i feel whole again

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to dana & neverwhere for cheerleading & enthusiasm! set loosely in the same verse as "maybe you were the ocean when i was just a stone" (otsadness), but it's not necessary to read that beforehand, this works as a stand-alone.
> 
> Title from “Until I Am Whole” by The Mountain Goats.

Harold's hands are warm on her hips when he adjusts the buckles of the harness. "Does it feel good like this?"

"Very," Grace says. The harness is soft, buttery leather that fits snugly around her hips, with a strap-on jutting out obscenely between her legs.

On the bed, John lies on his back with his hands behind his head, watching them. He already got undressed while Harold helped Grace put on the harness, spread himself out on the bed for them like an offering. A bottle of lube waits on the bed next to him. "You look incredible," John says, his voice satisfyingly rough.

“I had it specifically tailored, with a few custom alterations,” Harold says. He runs his fingers over the front piece of the harness and draws back the material to reveal a small pocket behind the base of the dildo.

“For loose change?” Grace asks. She has seen the way Harold's gaze wandered over the silicone dildo earlier: it makes her wonder if maybe she will get to use it on him one day.

“I am appalled that you think I would create a design where not every single part has its purpose,” Harold says. His other hand cups her naked ass, framed by the black leather straps like something straight out of a dirty movie. Then he produces her bullet vibe and slides it into the little pocket.

It rests against her clit on one side and against the base of the dildo on the other. “That does seem rather practical,” Grace says, suddenly breathless.

“Can we maybe admire the design choices some other time?” John asks. He has his hands flat on the bed beside him, but with the way he's squirming, Grace can tell that he'd love to put them somewhere else. “I'd _really_ love to start.”

“Pushy,” Harold says. He turns to John. “If you continue to be this impatient, maybe we'll have to revoke some of your privileges. The privilege to orgasm while Grace fucks you, for example.”

John's eyes widen, and his hands tighten on the sheets. “So you're telling me that I don't get to come?” John's breathing speeds up visibly at the thought.

Harold raises an eyebrow. “I think since Grace is calling the shots today, it seems only fair that you should have to wait for her permission.”

John groans, his eyelids fluttering shut. Grace bites her lip: god, she can't wait to make him shudder apart beneath her.

Harold leans in to kiss her, slow and dirty, and then slides his hand between the front of the harness and her skin to flick the little switch on the bullet vibe on. She gasps into his mouth at the sensation, leaning against him. “You're a _genius_ ,” she says fondly. The vibrations against her clit feel amazing.

Harold winks at her and joins John on the bed. Grace steps closer to kneel between John's legs. She reaches for the lube and squeezes a thick dollop onto her fingers before reaching between his legs. John sighs and spreads for her, giving her room to work.

“I've been looking forward to this all week,” Grace says, pushing one finger into him.

“Hnngh,” John says.

Harold sits down on the bed an leans against the headboard. He doesn't bother to undress, which is fine with Grace: she really likes this suit on him, and it's a nice contrast to the way John is writhing next to him on the sheets, far from being in control before she even _started_ to fuck him.

Harold touches John's shoulder and John scoots closer so that he can rest his head in Harold's lap. Harold slides a hand into John's hair and scratches lightly at his scalp, and John makes pleased noises that turn into gasps when Grace hits a good spot with her finger. “I've been thinking about this since the first time I watched you and Harold together,” she says. John's knuckles are white on the sheets. “You looked so hot getting fucked, you have absolutely no idea.”

The vibrator is distractingly good, but Grace tries to concentrate on John, tries to read his level of comfort in the lines of his body.

“Relax, John, it's all good,” Harold says, stroking John's hair. “Let us take care of you.”

John _whines_ when Grace pushes a second finger into him. His cock is dripping precome onto his stomach, his eyes are squeezed shut. Grace takes her time: she knows John, he'll say that he is ready at just about any point: he would always rather bear the discomfort than wait. This is part of caring for him, too: to make sure that he gets what he needs, even if he doesn't think he deserves it. Especially then.

“You're incredible,” Grace says. She leans down to press a kiss against the head of his cock, lick the moisture away, and John makes thin, desperate sounds and hides his face in Harold's hands. The change of position presses the vibrator harder between her legs and Grace shudders and sighs.

“Ssh,” Harold says, soothing, still petting John's head. “You're doing so well, my darling.”

Grace resumes her earlier position and keeps working on John until he is loose and relaxed and nearly weeping. She applies lube to the silicone cock between her legs, then lines up the head of the dildo at his hole. “John? Look at me.”

John opens his eyes and turns his face from where he has pressed it against the wool of Harold's pants. His hair looks chaotic, his lower lip is swollen and tender where he bit at it. Grace moves her hips just a fraction and John groans, his breathing erratic.

Grace pushes deeper, and the motion presses the vibrator snugly against her clit. She closes a hand around the base of the dildo and feels the vibrations translate through it: she has to admit that when Harold chooses a design, he really goes for maximum effect.

“ _Grace,_ ” John says, his hands clenching on the sheets.

“Yes, my love?” Grace asks. She keeps herself perfectly still and places two hands on the insides of his thighs.

Harold smoothes away John's sweat-slick hair from his forehead, his fingers caressing John's cheek.

“Please fuck me,” John manages in a rush, his voice wrecked. “I'm not gonna come, I _promise_ , I just need– _please._ ”

Grace swallows against the thick lump in her throat: there's an incredible thrill to having John so completely at her mercy. Maybe sometime she'll make him wait longer, suck his cock while she's fingering him, take all the time in the world. Right now, though, it looks like John is about to have a _stroke_ if he doesn't get fucked. They have time, Grace thinks. Maybe she'll use a rainy Sunday afternoon to tie him up and see how desperate she can get him if she really tries.

She takes a deep breath and thrusts slowly, carefully, taking breaks every now and then to let John get accustomed to the stretch. She's close, and the vibrations between her legs make her toes curl in pleasure, but she wants to make this good for him. When she finally pushes all the way in, John shakes beneath her, his untouched cock twitching and leaking against his skin.

“Grace,” John mumbles, sounding half-delirious, “ _Grace, Grace, Grace._ ”

Harold still holds him. “You're taking it so well, you're so _good_ ,” he says, and John reaches out to clench his hand into the fabric of Harold's jacket. Then he turns his face into Harold's hand and kisses his fingers.

Grace manages a rhythm, and every thrust gets her closer. The image of John, flushed and sweaty and falling to pieces in front of her is not exactly helping her to last longer. She sighs when she pushes the dildo into him again, her hands tightening on his legs. This time, the angle is better, and John sobs and wails while she fucks him.

“You're astonishing,” Grace can hear Harold say, “ _Exquisite._ ”

Grace reaches out to wrap her hand around John's cock and stroke him in time with her thrusts, and his whole body jerks helplessly into the touch. “Come for me, love,” Grace says. “It's alright, John, you're allowed.” She takes a few quick breaths. Her rhythm is faster now, more urgent.

John whimpers, probably in sheer relief to be given permission, and then spills over her fingers.

“Ssh, I've got you, it's alright,” Harold says, his hands on John's face, cradling his head. John's cheeks are wet by now, his body wrecked by sobs.

Grace thrusts once more and then lets herself sink into the white-hot bliss of orgasm. When she comes back to herself enough to think, she carefully withdraws and and turns off the bullet vibe inside of the harness, by now a hot spot of almost-pain between her legs. She opens the belt buckles and removes the harness before getting back to bed and curling up against John, who is still shaking badly.

“You're always so good for us,” Harold says, caressing John's temple. John has his eyes closed like he is too overwhelmed to even look at them. He nuzzles Harold's hand affectionately.

Grace pulls the sheets over them and kisses his shoulder, the side of his face. She has seen him affected before, but there is a little voice inside of her that keeps insisting that maybe she took it a little too far, wasn't careful enough. “Did I hurt you?”

John turns his head to her, blinking. There are tears glittering on his dark lashes. “God, no, you were – you were perfect, Grace,” he says, reaching for her hand.

She leans in to kiss him and snuggle close. Grace feels John's whole body relax against her. Then Harold lowers himself down to curl up at John's other side, and John sighs and nuzzles Harold's throat before letting his head rest against Harold's chest. “We've got you, you're safe, John. You're perfectly safe here,” Harold says and kisses the top of John's head.

John lets himself be petted and held, the hammering pulse in his wrist slowly returning to normal.

“We love you,” Grace says, kissing his neck.

John squeezes her hand in silent gratitude.

\-- fin


End file.
